Eggs
by ImNotAPsychopath
Summary: I actually wrote this on John Watson's birthday, guys. I'm super proud of myself. :) Please give me reviews for this. I love you all


Eggs

7-7-2012

Sherlock awoke with a smile as he looked at his golden-haired lover who was softly snoring as he slept. He gave John a quick kiss on the cheek before climbing out of bed and wrapping his favorite sheet around him. He crept quietly out of the room and shut the door with a soft click so as not to disturb John as he continued with his seemingly deep slumber.

Sherlock's bare feet padded on the area rug that covered the wood floor as he walked to the kitchen, thinking deeply on how and if this was going to work. He didn't know anything about kitchens other than the fridge was a great place to store a head. But he was going to try. It was John's birthday, July 7th, and he wanted today to be perfect for him. After all, John gave him a wonderful surprise on his birthday in January, so it was time to return the favor.

But what to do? Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows in frustration as he tried to think of something he could do for John.

His gaze landed on a carton of eggs and he smiled. Perfect. He would make John breakfast! He turned on the oven, got out a pan, took out a few eggs, and cracked them over the pan.

'I think he likes them scrambled,' Sherlock thought to himself. 'Bloody hell, I don't even know how he likes his eggs and he's supposed to be my boyfriend!' He growled in irritation at his idiocy. 'Well, I can't exactly ask him. That would ruin the surprise.'

Sherlock sighed, staring at the eggs that were now sizzling on the pan. 'I can't only give him this. This would be pathetic compared to what he got me.' Sherlock walked into the living room to his chair, mind drifting to his previous birthday.

"_Sherlock, you can open your eyes now."_

_He had opened his eyes to discover a beautifully wrapped box. Excitement filled him to the brim and he carefully unraveled the box's ribbon and took off the paper._

"_You know you don't have to do that, right?" John had teased lightly._

"_Obviously," He teased back, nuzzling John's nose gently before taking the lid off the box and gasping in amazement._

_Inside was a beautiful mahogany viola. The bow was lying next to it, polished and gleaming in the florescent light._

"_I thought since you already had a violin and everything that I could get you something a little different so that your violin could get a break from all that beautiful playing you do." John explained, kissing Sherlock's cheek sweetly._

"_Of course," Sherlock smirked. "But there's one other instrument that I've been dying to try out first."_

"_Oh?" John quirked an eyebrow as a grin spread across his face. "And what instrument is that?"_

_Sherlock grinned. "You," And with that, he had pulled John down in one of those breathtaking kisses that had lead to one of the most amazing nights of his life._

Yes. John deserved much more than eggs. He needed –

"Sherlock!" John's panicked voice shook him out of his reverie and he jerked his head up in attention.

"John?" Sherlock grew nervous. John couldn't find out about the surprise. If he found out… Sherlock shuddered. He didn't want to disappoint him any more than he already had. "What are you doing up?"

John walked swiftly into the living room where Sherlock sat in his favorite chair and sighed in relief. "Oh good. You aren't smoking or anything. I just smelled smoke and –"

Sherlock leapt to his feet in alarm. "I forgot about the eggs!" With those five words, he ran to the kitchen and began to beat the pan's flames out with a wet dishcloth.

John rushed after him in alarm. "Sherlock, what the bloody hell are you doing!" John yanked Sherlock away from the fire that was only growing bigger and grabbed the fire extinguisher.

After a few seconds, the fire was out, John panting heavily, and Sherlock on the couch, also known as his sulking place, where he had laid down and began to pout. John sighed and sat next to Sherlock, stroking his hair gently.

"What were you doing cooking?"

"What do you mean?" Sherlock decided to play dumb. That was his best chance at this current moment in time so that was what he was going to do. "I don't cook. You know that. It must have been Mrs. Hudson."

John gave him such a look of disbelief that even he had to look away.

"Sherlock…" John leaned his forehead against Sherlock's lightly. "I'm not mad. I'm just surprised a bit is all. Why did you pick today to cook?"

Sherlock sighed. "I wanted to surprise you for your birthday," he mumbled, "since you surprised me."

John blinked once, processing for a moment before laughing. Sherlock shot him a withering glare and he struggled to contain himself.

"You did this for me?"

Sherlock nodded and John's smile grew bigger and sweeter before he twisted his body, now on top of Sherlock and practically straddling him. "Well I suppose some thanks are in order then, aren't they?" He practically purred before leaning over Sherlock and nibbling gently on his neck.

Sherlock gasped and struggled to not slam John into the couch and take him right then and there. He contained himself luckily, but only barely. "I screwed up though."

John smiled. "Luckily for you, I forgive easily." He leaned over and kissed Sherlock roughly.

"So…" Sherlock gasped after he broke the kiss for air. "What am I supposed to get you now?"

John gave an evil smirk that Jim Moriarty would be jealous of. "I think I know what I want for my birthday."

Sherlock blushed but decided to play along, genuinely curious as usual. "What?"

John's eyes sparkled mischievously. "You."

We'll leave the rest to the imagination.

~End~

Author's Note:

Happy birthday, John Watson!

7-7-?


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